


Same Joe

by Cookies_and_Chaos



Category: The A Word (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28155813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookies_and_Chaos/pseuds/Cookies_and_Chaos
Summary: Rebecca can't understand why there's so much silence in the house now. Written for the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge 2020, Day 9, "Nine Sullen Silences".
Kudos: 2
Collections: 12 Days of Christmas Challenge 2020





	Same Joe

There's no music now. Not out loud, anyway. Just the music playing away in Joe's headphones as he carries on, happy as he was before. The same Joe he was before.

I don't understand the silence, the chill of sullen resignation that's broken every so often by Dad acting so... _more._ I don't know how to describe it. Like he's trying so hard to show that nothing has changed that he changes everything even more than the silence does. I don't understand why they think anything has changed. It's not as though Joe went into the doctor's office and they changed him in some way, all they did was stick a name to what we already know about Joe. But now it's as though every little thing Joe does is somehow wrong or out of step or something that needs to be scrutinised to work out if it's something he's doing because he's autistic or not. And if it is, is it something they should change? Then Dad will make a big song and dance about how Joe is still Joe and he'll put on some music for a little while but he'll put it on louder than it was before, trying too hard to be the catalyst to Mum's misguided despair. So, because it's louder, Joe recoils and wants to just get away. Then Mum and Dad start arguing about whose fault it is.

But if they just understood that Joe is still Joe and is as wonderful of a son and little brother as he ever was, none of this would be happening. There wouldn't be silence and sullenness, or exaggerated normality to an ear-splitting soundtrack. Everything would just work as it should. There'd be music and laughter and frustration and tears, there'd be play and bickering and family dinner with stories from the day. There wouldn't be this uncertainty hanging over the house, burying us all under this idea that everything had changed for the worse.

Nothing had changed, not really. I just wish they could see that like I do.


End file.
